When Mayuri finally worked up the courage to ask Kabuto about how he learned to move so silently, he produced tiny silver bells.
"What do I do with these?" Mayuri asked, taking them and examining them curiously. They looked totally normal as they glinted in the warm light of the torches. Kabuto had made a soft, breathy sound that she had never heard before. It took her a second to realize that it was a laugh.
"You wear them," he told her, eyes alight with amusement and hands already moving to tie them around her wrists and ankles. "When you can step lightly enough and move with enough control that they don't make a sound, then you'll be able to apply that knowledge to your everyday life. There is another way, but it requires a chakra control that you won't have for years yet."
Mayuri nodded thoughtfully and shook her hands, delighted at the cheerful tinkling sound that they made. "I guess if I'm already good enough to be quiet without chakra, by the time I can use it, that means I'll just be even better than anybody from any of the other villages! Right?"
Kabuto hummed, his smile soft and distant, his eyes narrowed and sharp. It was a strange contrast, but one that she had come to associate with him. At this age, he had apparently not yet perfected his facade of the cheerful, hapless boy. Or maybe he had, and since she already knew the truth, she could see what lay beneath. Perhaps he just didn't bother to fully employ it when he was in Otogakure. Either way, she wasn't going to be the one to point out the flaws in his mask. It was better if he didn't know that she was on to him.
The first year seemed to pass rather quickly. Their bodies were still too young and weak from the time spent floating in the tanks to go through any kind of vigorous physical activity, and their chakra coils were too undeveloped to risk any kind of training with their kekkei genkai or any jutsus, lest they damage them beyond the help of any medic. So instead, their learning and development focused mostly on some light endurance and flexibility training (which it soon became clear that, much to their relief, they were exceedingly good at), memorizing handsigns, and the slow and frustrating process of learning to read and write.
Each day was so full and busy that it left very little time for either of them to dwell on the dark thoughts that lurked within both of their minds. They would complete their lessons and then fall into bed immediately afterwards, their tiny bodies unused to so much activity. Even with heads full of fear and chests heavy with the grief of two families lost in a single blow, it wasn't enough to keep their eyes open once their heads hit the pillows. Both of the girls buried the grief and the uncertainties deep within themselves. Even on days when it seemed too hard to rise from the bed, that niggling instinct of "move or die" remained, driving them to pull themselves free of the covers and forcing their feet to carry them to their lessons. On those days, it was a staunch reminder of how much they needed each other. Even with the threat of death hanging over their heads, neither of them were sure that they would bother to get out of bed without the prompting – and sometimes, begging – that the other offered. Time passed, and they taught themselves to cope in different ways, and feared the day that they would have to face those dark things within themselves.
Even though that first year seemed to be a relatively minor part of their schooling and development, it felt as though Orochimaru's shadow still loomed over them at all times. Their reading teacher's favorite pastime seemed to be pointing out how blessed they were for a man as busy as the Otokage to have taken a personal interest in their schooling. He attended their lessons once a week, sharp eyes assessing their progress. He would even offer soft words of encouragement when they accomplished one milestone or another. It was strange, yet somehow, the hard-won words of praise were enough to make Hiroko and Mayuri light up despite themselves. It was hard not to, when he was one of the only people they interacted with with any frequency, that first year. Although they took their meals in the cafeteria with whoever else from the village was already in there, outside of that, the girls' social circle was comprised only of Orochimaru, Kabuto, the seal master, one sensei for their reading and writing lessons, one for their stretches and conditioning, and a medic for their weekly checkups. Six people wasn't much of a social circle for two girls who had grown up surrounded by family and friends and just other people in general.
Their whole world consisted of only a handful of rooms, each one with the same stone walls and flickering torches. Some days, it felt like even when they were moving from place to place, they hadn't switched locations at all. It was frustrating, and it was also frightening. There were days that Mayuri began to wonder if any of this were real at all and where Hiroko could swear that the walls of each room were beginning to inch ever closer. They missed the sky, the sun, the world in general. Living underground didn't agree with them.
The passage of time was also something that seemed to escape them both. There were no clocks and no windows, yet everyone around them seemed to be operating on the same schedule. It was a schedule that neither of the girls had really adjusted to yet. Their lessons seemed to drag on and on one day, yet be over in a flash the next. It was disorienting in a way that neither had ever truly experienced before. There had always been day and night, clocks and cell phones, ways to see and track the minutes and hours as they passed by. Even seasons were lost to them here. The caves were all carefully climate controlled and stale, chilly air was constantly cycled through the ventilation system, making every day just the same as the last no matter what time of year it might have been. It was strange, only being able to rely on the people around them to know what day it was and how long had passed. Most of the time, they weren't certain what time of the year it was or even how old they were. It was a terribly humbling thing, being so reliant on those around them for something that they had once taken entirely for granted. In a desperate bid to make herself feel better and less worried about the minutes that kept slipping away without her notice, Mayuri liked to remind herself, over and over again, that time was an illusion; a man-made social construct. Somehow, it didn't really help at all.
Isolated as they were, it was far too easy to forget that Orochimaru was the reason they had suffered so much those first few months and his part in their mother and grandmother's deaths. No one in the entire underground village seemed to have a single bad thing to say about him. The only stories anyone had to tell were of his generosity, of how he had saved them or their clan or their loved ones. He had offered a future and a home to many shinobi who had given up hope for a future for themselves. The only complaints they ever heard were of the long missions that the shinobi of the village were often sent on and the occasional deaths that resulted from said missions, but even then, everyone was quick to point out that they were necessary and that such things were impossible to avoid in a shinobi village, especially one that was just starting out. On more than one occasion, the sisters had even listened in open-mouthed shock as villagers shared tales of Orochimaru's kindness over their meals, too confused and uncertain to contradict the other villagers' words with their own horrific experiences. It was hard to regale the evil that they had witnessed and experienced with the man the other villagers sang praises about. It was far easier to slip into the same mindset that everyone they came into contact with held.
Even with that mindset slowly taking root within her mind, Mayuri still dreamed of dark eyes staring at her from a disembodied head and of blood squishing beneath her feet. She would dream of a medic with kind eyes and a bright smile, whose hands hurt instead of healed, and whose blood had dried beneath her fingernails. When she woke up from those nightmares, it was easier to remember the cruelty of Orochimaru's amusement and the way his golden eyes had been alight with a malicious enjoyment as he watched her fly into a rage. She would stare down at her hands, flexing her fingers and watching the tendons move beneath her skin. She wanted to become stronger and to be able to protect herself and her sister, but when she remembered how easily Orochimaru had killed her mother and how Emi's face had looked as she died, she wasn't sure if she could ever become that kind of person. When she realized that those memories were already beginning to grow fuzzy around the edges when they weren't sending her into panic attacks, she wasn't sure whether to be grateful or not. Even so, she did her best to hold on to them and to the way they made her feel. She didn't want to ever forget the truth.
Hiroko, in turn, often found her thoughts wandering back to empty cots, crying children, and the genjutsu Orochimaru had put her under. She would stare at her hands and chase the subcutaneous warmth that was always flowing through her, just out of her reach. She could almost grasp it, even with the seals that crawled across her flesh in elegant black swirls. It was strange, even painful, to think that so many children had succumbed to the powers that were flowing through her veins. She wondered if it made her bad, to still want to use these abilities and to want that fire to fill her once again. Then, she would recall the look on her sister's face as she was impaled and the way her blood had looked against the ice that Hiroko had created. Even though she knew that that moment had not been real, even with Mayuri sleeping restlessly in the bed across from her, she would shiver and allow the fire within her chest to die down into ashes. She told herself that she wouldn't let anyone into her mind like that again, and resolved to find the abilities and the strength to keep them out.
Alright everyone, a short transitional chapter this week! We go back into being a little more focused and in-depth next chapter, but I've got a 12 hour drive tomorrow (technically today!) and its been an exceedingly stressful day so I'm afraid I don't have the energy to write and edit much more at the moment. I'm going to be visiting family for the holidays, so there's a good chance that there won't be an update next week. (And possibly the week after that? We'll see.) So I really hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and this little glimpse into what's going on in the girls' lives and heads.
Now, a little poll for everyone! I've got 90% of this fic and its plot points already planned out in advance, but there's one thing I keep going back and forth over; what age do I want to make the girls, exactly? I've got it narrowed down, as I'm sure some of you have guessed from the ages given to other canon characters that have shown up as well as from how new Otogakure is as a village, but I keep changing my mind about their exact ages. So, here's where I'd like to hear more from you all! (Hint: There's a tiny bit of a spoiler here, so if you don't want that, stop reading now!)
Hiroko and Mayuri are either going to be a year older, a year younger, or the same age as the main Naruto cast. What would you like to see? Leave your response in the comments or drop me a PM! Thanks, and I hope that whatever holidays you do or do not celebrate, the rest of your weeks are happy ones! See you next time, and as always, thank you for reading!